


Candles

by statiictine



Category: The Boy (2016 Bell)
Genre: Gen, this was originally a birthday fic but ao3 is an ass
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-20
Updated: 2018-05-20
Packaged: 2019-05-09 06:39:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14711034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/statiictine/pseuds/statiictine
Summary: Being ten was less of a milestone and more of a time-lapsed shackle chained beneath the ankles, never to be cherished or commemorated in any normal fashion like in fairy-tale books or heartfelt movies they could only dream would be in their future.





	Candles

 Johanne wakes up at exactly 8 AM on the dot, never a minute too soon or late. It was practically ingrained into them the rewards and consequences of such an important task, deemed at such a high regard for Mrs. Heelshire they never took a chance to really think of it as an odd, peculiar superstition rather than an extreme prerequisite. They didn’t mind it that much, really, because aside from the rising sun’s blaring gaze peeking through thin curtains into their even thinner eyelids, as they crumbled feebly into the bed sheets it meant more enjoyment for today’s endeavors.

Today _especially_.

They had hinted at it constantly. Subtle winds of conversation, careful to not rock the boat too soon only to be cut short by Mrs. Heelshire’s quick thinking. For that reason Mr. Heelshire would have been an easier target for their more heinous approach: a few blinking, pitiful glances and stuttering tongue and loose teeth would seal his fate of him wrapped around their little finger—their sweet-toothed, candle-caked starved finger.

But Johanne could see it a mile away, for their little charms and tricks were getting old and the child themself old _er_. Being ten was less of a milestone and more of a time-lapsed shackle chained beneath the ankles, never to be cherished or commemorated in any normal fashion like in fairy-tale books or heartfelt movies they could only dream would be in their future. It wasn’t going to stop them from trying, however.

They just had to get creative.

Dressed and in shape, hair combed back from its messy curls, mismatched teeth shining brighter than a beacon, they ran down corridor to stairwell, careful in their meticulous tip-toeing as to prevent from stomping only to run into the dining room once again. They took their seat right between Mr. Heelshire respectively, and only a chair and the few hairs away from porcelain and glass.

“Today really is a beautiful day,” Johanne beamed. They happily dug into their food, humming over-enthusiastically over their full breakfast.  “Anything _special_ going on on such a perfect sunny day?”

Mrs. Heelshire quirked a brow from her turned figure behind the sink. “Nothing from what I’ve heard,” Mr. Heelshire replied under one of his print almanacs he was always so preoccupied in.

Johanne pursed their lips in thought. “Really? I could’ve sworn something was going on today. Are you absolutely sure?”

“Are you feeling well Johanne?” Mrs. Heelshire asked from across the table. “You seem to be _expectant_ in your plans today.”

“Oh, it’s nothing, really,” They coyly giggled and bowed their head, taking a quick glance from upper lids to notice any change brought about their little scheme. Nothing came about it, only a few confused and quizzical looks, and they suppressed a childish pout.

The harmonic bell tone of the door bell took them all by momentary surprise and roused the adults of the house onto their feet. Johanne was the last, peeking through the archway at the huddle of people and the familiar, warm voice of none other than…

“Uncle Strauss!” Johanne wasted no time in making their presence known as they sped along wooden floors and between the Heelshires and into his arms. They could feel his chest boom in low, sincere chuckles at the child clinging onto him like a lifeline.

“Hey Joh-Joh!” He playfully drawled, twirling the child around a ringed sound of squeals and laughter. “How’s this little troublemaker been doing?”

“Really dizzy,” They managed to slur out in between giggle-snorts. “I missed you so much!”

“But it’s only been about a week or two,” Strauss put them down and stood in faux contemplation. “Last time I was here you practically had me running for the hills with your old hijinks!”

Johanne grinned happily at the thought, only to be casually pushed aside by Mrs. Heelshire. Her hand held onto the child firmly. “We were just eating breakfast,” she said bluntly.

Strauss combed back stray curls from his face, “I figured my stop here wouldn’t intrude too much on your day, ma’am.”

“Don’t worry, Strauss! I finished my food and everything, so you’re not barging in on-”

“Johanne,” Mrs. Heelshire said simply and the words thereafter died in Johanne’s mouth. She looked back at Strauss and leered in close to his ear, “You have until one.”

Strauss nodded slowly, his cold expression melting back at the insistent tugging of his hands up the stairwell. “C’mon Uncle Strauss! I just read a new chapter of...”   

Mrs. Heelshire only watched the two slowly ascend upward. Their chatter left right along with them until there was no sound to listen to.

 

-

 

“...And then there was a twist!” Johanne feigned shock and peril. Strauss laughed and shook his head, “I really liked that part, though.”

“You always do,” Strauss hummed. “Speaking of twists, I heard that today was really gonna be _something_ ,” He winked.

“Really?”

“So much so I had to prepare for it,” the man held up a finger, “But first, close your eyes.”

Johanne eagerly closed them, jittering in their spot but then slowing. They opened an eye, “Is this going to be a trick?”

“I assure you this is not a trick,” Strauss said sincerely. “And no peeking this time!”

“It better not be,” Johanne mumbled sing-song like. Their ears made up for the lost imagery: the ruffling of wrapper, the scratching of nail on object. More and more their excitement ringed bright in their ears. Was it something big and grand? Was it _alive_?  Or maybe it was a trick after all and Strauss was pulling another bottle cap and tissue paper trick...

Finally, the older man spoke up, “There we are. You can open them now.”

Strauss unveiled the mystery of what he hid in plain sight among his broad frame: a decorated box, relatively small in size, laced in the brightest satin bow Johanne had ever seen. "Happy birthday, Johanne." Strauss smiled.  

Johanne looked back with wide, glassy eyes. Their heart swelled in their chest at the gesture, yet another emotion clashed with it as well. Small fingers timidly reached for the ribbon only to stop in consideration.   

"Are you _sure_?" Johanne bit their bottom lip. "It's kind of you to think about me, but-"

The present pushed deeper into Johanne's chest, insisting. "Please. After all you only celebrate something like this once a lifetime." Strauss said.

The child dumbly nodded. Instantly their fingers slipped under bright ribbon and tugged, falling to the ground while they busied themselves in wrapper and shuffled friction between the lid and the rest of the object. Only a small reactionary agape gasp filled the anticipatory air.

Inside the box, though misleading, was filled to the brim with small trinkets, candies, and travel sized books alike. They were things that brought the most joy to the child. Things that, much to the disdain of the Heelshires, Johanne enjoyed in secluded secrecy.

Strauss grinned proudly at the excitement growing in the child's eyes. "You like it?" He asked. He allowed the room to be filled with relieving laughter at Johanne's fervent nodding.

"To be fairly honest I was worried that you wouldn't. It's hard to stay in touch with a nephling who's too old for such corny knick-knack crap." He combed back dark curls with a dopey grin.

"It's _not_ 'knick-knack crap'!" Johanne flushed, a meekness in them finding silent reprimanding for their outburst by an invisible shroud of expectation. "I very much like the present, really. Especially since..."

Childishly plump lips closed tightly around the sentence, trailing itself into a mutual understanding between them and their uncle. Their hands suddenly covered the contents inside the box. Their eyes darted around the room anxiously. "I need to find a place to put these," They said finally. Moreso as a subconsciously outspoken reminder rather than to the acknowledgment of a singular audience, who nodded and tucked a inquisitive hand under his chin. "What place _hasn't_ the Heelshires ever stopped to look in, let alone-"

He shivered at the implication. No doubt in his mind he knew that his own twin brother wouldn't allow an instance of guilt to brush through him as he ate away at a mere child's annual spoils. If anything he was the worser evil to befall at the untimely fate of Johanne's present.

Then, in an instant Johanne's eyes filled with another emotion; a spark of inspiration, followed by the hint of a mischievous ingenious grin allowing missing front teeth to shine through. They spoke no other words outside of a cherubic chuckle as they put down their present and felt around the hardwood floors.

An octave raised giggle shot through them at the feeling of a loose floorboard, eagerly fishing the thing upward with dulled nails until it revealed itself and the hollowness below. Strauss quirked a brow.

"I've hid a ton of things in here before," Johanne fished out dust bunnies and wood rot, uncovering the decaying shine of a small hidey hole and its forgotten treasures. Trinkets left in their near decade hideaway, casted away from any real growing up. "They wouldn't dare to look in here. Mum doesn't like to get her hands dirty and Papa's hands get sore from heavy work."

"And him?" Strauss asked. He spoke of 'him' very lightly between hand and ear.

Johanne shook their head. "Daddy doesn't like coming in here a lot," They bit their lip again, peeling freshly loose skin. "It reminds him of things he'd rather not talk about."

"Yeah, I'd bet." Strauss murmured. The door opened to the annoyed whines of the hinges and the temporary shock of the two. But at the convenient enough time though for the child to hastily seal the floorboard, away from Mrs. Heelshire's stern gaze.

"Johanne," She said, much more like she was speaking to an ill-mannered dog than to the visibly shrinking figure in front of her. Painted nails tapped along the knob's rusting globe. "It's right past tea time, darling. As much as I know you both have much catching up to do, we'll have to once again cut this short." Margaret turned to Strauss, "If you don't mind..."

"Yes, yes. Of course." He briskly nodded, holding back a darting tongue of rebuttal between pursed lips and clenched teeth. He bent down to Johanne's height, long outstretched arms and a quickly softened gaze filled by eagerness and instantaneous covet from the smaller one.

"I'll see you soon, Joh-Joh." Strauss mumbled into endless curls seeping into calloused hands, no different from his own save for its length. His lips planted a chaste kiss onto the child's forehead, inciting warm hummed giggles from them. "Try not to give Mrs. Heelshire a headache, will ya?"

Johanne crinkled their nose at the entangled hand brushing up into an affectionate pat. "Only if you let me stay over for dinner at your house!"

"Can't guarantee it, little muse," Strauss rose up, eyeing the older woman as he walked past her in the door frame. They never broke eye contact with each other and not a single wink was spared in the span of the child's awkward, shriveling wave and the slammed door behind the two as she led them down into the near endlessness of the hallway.

Two pairs of padded feet fell into one at Strauss' refusal to go no further. “That was downright cruel.” Strauss spoke up.

“Cruelty in your eyes is necessity in this house.”

Strauss narrowed his eyes. "Just because the lot of you don't want to remember the kid's birthday doesn't give you any right to-"

"It's for her own good, Strauss." Mrs. Heelshire stated flatly. "Johanne understands that in order to keep the peace around here certain sacrifices must be made in order to compensate for that."

“The kid just turned _ten,_ Margaret.” Strauss’ voice wavered, dangerously low as to keep from yelling out. “No child needs to make sacrifices for the sins of their father.”

“You would never understand. Today’s significance is tenfold compared to the pain all those years ago.”

"But you'll celebrate _our_ birthday just fine then," Strauss threw up his hands. "You're ok with pretending life goes on with some damned doll than your own grandchild sitting right in front of you.”

The echo of shoe meeting hardwood suppressed itself instantly. Dulled kitty heels dug into the floor below them, silently weeping at the shift in weight. "Don't you meddle in things you don't understand, boy." Mrs. Heelshire hissed lowly. "Out of all that has happened you have been the least out of them all to suffer from all of this. Coming and going as you please while we are the ones to pick up the pieces." She took a cold glance from her peripherals. "If you know what's best for you you'll keep some things right where they were buried before you damn us all today."

She was unwavering, unmovable in her vaguely placed threat. For a brief moment it was nearly enough to revert Strauss back into the feeble, anxious-ridden child he forgot he was when in the presence of his own mother all those years ago.

The gently footed pace of Mr. Heelshire sucked back the growing tensions. A look of momentary confusion brushed through him before he spoke. "Harrison is here to bring you back, Strauss." He adjusted the seams of his undershirt either seemingly out of habit or the avoidance of Mrs. Heelshire's wrath. "I'm sure you have places to be, although the visit was very much appreciated by the little one."

He extended a passing hand out to the dramatic descent of the stairwell, which the other man gladly took, ignoring the pressing lumps in place of eyes staring into the back of his head or the slow tightening of his throat. Only when they were out of what was presumably earshot from the scorned woman did the internal storm brewing within Strauss collapse in relief. Looking over to his own father felt as if the feeling was mutual.

They casually walked out of the door's entrance, taking no rush in the distance from there and the road before them.

"Really, taking time out of your day in order to visit Johanne was not only kind of you, but also very much needed." Mr. Heelshire turned to Strauss, a sad, saccharine poise gracing fine lined details. "I can't necessarily blame you for only doing this for the sake of the child; I just wish the circumstances of these visitations were more different 'is all."

"Well then that makes two of us." Strauss mumbled, looking back up to meet the driver's laid back stare. In all these years--to which Harrison himself can attest, you haven't changed a bit yourself!--the man never really seemed to age in his memory of the ripe age of seven and-a-half and a tall, silver eyed man propped between the door and the hood of the car smoking up Benson and Hedges down to the snub among "man talk" with Mr. Heelshire. Aside from the subtle weight loss he was still met with a bear-tight hug pulled into by bony limbs, a few parting words between the three men and the juxtaposed silence that came with his ride back home from previous ruckus beforehand.

In a way, the trees breezing by dingy, glass window panes that almost sold him the illusion of him, the car, and the rest of the world being swallowed whole brought him a strange peace that afternoon.       

-

 

Tea with Mrs. Heelshire was like drinking piping hot lava from the pits of a dragon’s lair. Malcolm wasted no time with the groceries, as per usual. Lunch today went without a hitch, in all of its egg-shell tipping glory. Then it was once again back to the study; their sanctuary when left to their own devices, but this time around their own personal hell.

Mrs. Heelshire was never loose on her teachings with the child. Everything they did had some formula, some binary repetition that fell on borderline routine: Literature, followed by Primary English mixed with the occasional piano that Johanne would ache for weeks in suspended chord. It was almost like normal school, yet Mrs. Heelshire prided herself in her own methods of academia what with an odd or so degree and God himself as her witness.

Johanne slumped down from their seat with a long, exasperated sigh. It wasn't really fair; to spend the glories of coming of age uncomfortably plucking arpeggios and chords over a day that was supposedly _theirs_ to begin with. Year by year their age really truly became just a number, without the surprise presents and silent, praying birthday wishes and the annual phrase of _l_ _ook how big you’re getting!_ It was plain as the number of fingers intact on their fingers, their movements across ivory and bell.

“Why can’t I just take the day off from studying?” They grumbled under their breath.

Mrs. Heelshire’s expression hardened at the notion. “There are no ‘breaks’ in knowledge, child.”

“But yesterday you let me take probably the longest break in my entire life!” Johanne whined.

Mrs. Heelshire deadpanned, “Doing chores only to avoid said chores in favor of frolicking in the woods somewhere is not a break.”

“It’s  still better than nothing!” Johanne crossed their arms. “You never let me take a break out of the whole year. Why is that? Why _today_ , when there’s always tomorrow or the next day?” Johanne rose from their pout-lowered slouching. “Why is it that every other day gets to be the same but when today really counts you tell me to study harder?”

More and more their words grew more passionate as they fell from their lips, their cheeks burning hot at their intensity and the older woman’s defining scowl in light of the child's fervent defiance. “Do you even know what _today_ is?” They coldly asked.

“Watch your tongue, young lady.” Mrs. Heelshire said curtly. “Today is no different from any of the days that fell before and after it, or any other years before it for that matter. You just want cake in exchange for no true hard work as per usual-”

“It’s not even the cake that I’m after!” They balled fists into their hair, frustrated enough at the older woman's blackened heart to pull root and end. “You think I wouldn’t notice how everyone acts so timid, so sad whenever today rolls around: the _thirteenth_? The lot of you might as well pretend that I don’t even exist!”

“It’s for the safety of us all!”

“I never _asked_ to be everyone’s big mistake!” Johanne screamed out. “Especially not your bastard grandchild!”

A loud defining slap echoed through the room, rung through Johanne’s ears. Mrs. Heelshire stood aback, hard fury painted on her face. Her words lashed no cruelty; her eyes spoke louder than her hand stinging red on the child’s pale cheek. Tear angered blue stared right back at her icy gaze, and without warning Johanne scurried off, avoiding sharp talons and fire breathing threats along endless hallways, slammed doors and flimsy wall pane unearthing the dust sparkled labyrinth from shaking, prying hands.

How unfair, how awfully, downright unfair.

**Author's Note:**

> My friends have been egging me on to post some work in the tag for a good long while now. Initially this was just gonna be some post and run shit, but fortunately for all two of the people who actually like this actual literal child and also don't want five months and sleepless nights of meta and shitposting to go to waste (looking at you Markus) I figured I might as well go ahead and do it. 2018, am I right?
> 
> Hopefully this actually makes sense from a first impression standpoint instead of the single digit group of people who only get it because we wrote them from the ground up.
> 
> Also a bit of a fun fact: this was supposed to be a one-shot posted a whole week ago but since ao3 decided to murder my gay ass where I stood I was forced to try again (but I got lazy + end of the year finals).
> 
> Feedback and whatnot is encouraged I guess. Expect more things from me (or don't idk).


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